


Heat Spell

by thispapermoon



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: Agatha escapes, Dark Spells, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Hicsqueak, It's hot and then it's HOT if ya know what i mean, Mildred Hubble is a tiny hero, Pippa Pentangle is a pent-angel, The Battle of Cackle's, heat spell, shower kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 09:30:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15288585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thispapermoon/pseuds/thispapermoon
Summary: There’s a low hum and a flash of light as the Cackle’s staff fling a spell in unison down into the courtyard below.Hecate winces as it sizzles through the air and misses Agatha entirely, watches as the witch throws back her head and crows with mirth, the heat increasing as the castle stones tremble in time with her laughter.Hecate’s fingers clench down hard on the castle wall, never mind the way the stones burn the pads of her fingertips, and tries to think.****Agatha escapes and Cackle's is under attack. But Hecate doesn't have to fight alone.





	Heat Spell

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back! I feel like this has been the longest fic gap but I've been working on this fic little by little for the past few weeks when I can. Entire fic was inspired by Heatwave by Wild Ones cuz like when i hear _stop I can't take no more / this heat won't let me / think straight for even a minute_ i have to agree on multiple levels. Plus it's been like 100 degrees here. 
> 
> So have some battlefield hicsqueak followed by ;) ;) ;) hicsqueak.

Stream from the cauldron rises in a torrent causing the sweat that’s already beading on Hecate’s temples to slide unpleasantly down behind her ears and off the tip of her nose. She jerks away for the cauldron just in time to prevent the droplets from making their way into her potion and curses silently. It won’t do to have Sweat of a Witch in a potion such as this. In fact, no part of the situation she currently finds herself in will do. But she’ll just have to soldier on like a good witch ought and make the most of it.

Because unless she can produce a perfectly balanced Entrapment Potion, Agatha’s scheming will bring Cackle’s to its knees.

Already the stones around her shiver as distant, and not so distant, explosions slam against the castle walls. She winces at the latest volley and wipes at her face with the sleeve. It doesn’t do more than redistribute the moisture more liberally across her skin and she curses again. Her hands are hot and shaking, nearly too slick and weak to grip the ladle as she stirs thrice clockwise, and then thrice counterclockwise, until the potion hisses and turns a sickening looking puce.

A large boom sounds from not far off, echoed by the panic screams of school girls. Her fingers slip as she tries to work free the cork of a vial, heart slamming her her chest, and she raises the glass and tugs the stopper free with her teeth, mind flatlining in a cold panic that sparks and burns as it meets the cloying, oppressive air around her.

Hands rendered useless by the sheer terror she feels at the thought of just what is causing her girls to shriek in such terror, she carefully, carefully, directs her magic to strain the potion and funnel it into the vial. Her dress is sodden and she tucks the vial up one of her sleeves, crosses to the door on trembling knees and pulls it open.

Despite the dank heat of the lab, she is unprepared for the wave of dry, staggeringly hot air that slams into her, or the heavy smoke that stings her eyes and causes her to cough. Flames lick the walls at the far end of the corridor where once a wall stood, now reduced to rubble. The floor shakes beneath her feet once more as she recovers her bearings and moves forward determinedly, skirting the incinerated section of the corridor and taking the stairs to her left. She dares not transfer, not when she might land amongst flames or amongst a part of the castle that is no longer there at all.

More screams echo through the castle and she doubles her step, cursing under her breath that Ada had refused to evacuate the girls when there was still time. When Agatha was still just a frozen image in a frame. Before the nightmare of the day had come to this.

This. She throws open the door of the rampart and looks down at the scene below her: Ada and the teachers crouched down behind the battlements, the spells they throw uselessly ricocheting off of the protective bubble around Agatha as she stands triumphant in the courtyard below. One of the spells hits the shield and volleys back, slamming into the west tower and more girls scream. Hecate can just see them, tucked in behind pillars, and castle walls, and parapets, unable to escape, unable to truly hide. She swallows down fear and sinks to her knees least she be seen, shuffling along the wall as best she can in her tight black dress, the stone below her burning her palms and knees.

Because of course Agatha would cast a Heat Spell. It wasn’t simply be enough to terrify them, maybe even kill them. Mad as she is, Hecate supposes, she wants to make them suffer up until surrender.

Surrender. Despite the heat, the word makes Hecate shiver. She shuffles forward a little further until she’s far enough down the battlements that she can catch Ada’s eye. At the headmistress’s frantic look, she nods, produces the vial. Ada sags back against the wall in relief and Hecate tucks it back into her sleeve. It’s all well and good to have an Entrapment Potion at their disposal, but not if they can’t get at Agatha to use it.

Down the rampart, the teachers crowded around Ada to confer and she nods and they move closer the parapets with renewed determination. There’s a low hum and a flash of light as the Cackle’s staff fling a spell in unison down into the courtyard below.

Hecate winces as it sizzles through the air and misses Agatha entirely, watches as the witch throws back her head and crows with mirth, the heat increasing as the castle stones tremble in time with her laughter.

Hecate’s fingers clench down hard on the castle wall, never mind the way the stones burn the pads of her fingertips, and tries to think. But her mind is thick with the pressing heat and the pressing fear. She takes deep breath after deep breath and passes over spell after spell in her mind but no answer comes to her.

Her jaw feels permanently locked into place and her heart beats so quickly she wonders if she will fall unconscious and be no use to anyone. Struggling, she tries to inhale but her ribs don’t expand. Tries again only to become lightheaded from lack of air. Damning her panic, she silently gulps uselessly at the air, head spinning until she’s sagging against the castle wall. Spots prick at her vision and shame meets panic.

This is how it ends, she muses foggily. Too weak. Too cowardly. Incapacitated by her own damnable, selfish anxiety to even assist in the fight that will surely determine all of their fates.

The weight in her chest increases and she scrabbles at the stone below her, fingernails chipping in her desperation.

Belatedly she thinks of Pippa. What Pippa will think. What Pippa will say when she hears of Hecate’s cowardice. How she’ll never get to kiss Pippa goodbye. Will never wake her again with an _I love you_  or feel her skin move softly against her own. See her smile. Hear her laugh.

Dizzily, her thoughts conjure Pippa’s face into her minds-eye. Lovely. Always so lovely. Eyes kind and full of love and perhaps a bit of worry. If she’s going to die, at least the last thing she sees is Pippa’s face. In her vision Pippa speaks and she wishes she could hear the words, but her hearing is gone now too, her vision narrows, darkness rising to meet her -

Air slams into her like she’s breaking the surface of water.

Sweet, hot, burning air, but air all the same. She gasps, and sucks it in. It flames along her lungs and her eyes water, throat burning, until she gasps again, more air making its way back into her bloodstream until her head tips back and her eyes fly open, and she looks into Pippa’s face, Pippa’s eyes, and gasps again.

“Suffocation Spell,” Pippa mutters, “Agatha’s playing dirty.”

Hecate’s head lolls on her shoulders as she tries to make sense of Pippa’s words, but the deep frown between Pippa’s eyebrows tells enough of a story, as does the way Pippa firmly grasps Hecate’s upper arms, keeping her from slumping over. Breathing harshly, Hecate pushes herself upright a little further.

“Pippa -”

“It’s alright, darling, you’re alright now.”

The endearment flushes through her but she’s too irrate to chance a glance around them, to ensure they haven’t been heard. Instead she drags Pippa down next to her, pressing her head down as a fireball wizzes overhead.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Pippa twists under her hands and cocks an eyebrow.

“It that your way of thanking me?”

“Thanking you?”

“For saving your life.”

Hecate wants to curse but controls herself. Knows it’s true. Knows a moment more and she would not have made it through.

Pippa seems to know as well because she merely arches her eyebrow higher and tugs Hecate down a little further so they’re shoulder to shoulder.

“I’m not leaving you.” Her fingers tighten on Hecate’s arm. “I know you’re going to tell me to go. But I won’t. So you better make good use of me.”

Hecate frowns at her, heart thudding under the added weight that Pippa could also be injured in this fray.

But again Pippa reads her thoughts and holds her gaze. “I couldn’t live with myself,” she whispers, “if something were to happen to you and I weren’t here.”

Hecate swallows and they look at each other, so many private understandings filling the scorching air between them. Slowly, she nods.

“Right, then.” Pippa swallows what looks like a little painfully and blinks, training her eyes instead on Agatha down below them. “Together?”

Hecate takes her hand and feels their magic mingle. Feels their power racing through her blood. It crackles along her skin and she takes another deep breath, summoning the spell within her.

But before she can release it, down the rampart the other teachers and Ada send out their own incantation. It arcs down in a shower of orange flames and this time the aim is true. It slams into Agatha’s shield.

There’s a blast like a canon and Hecate feels like she’s falling through the air. Pippa’s hand is in her own and she hangs on tightly as they are thrown back against the stones of the battlements behind them. There’s a ringing in the air and a whole mess of smoke and debris. Coughing, she raises herself on an elbow, only breathing again when Pippa moves beside her, coughing as well and pulling her hand free to rub the dirt and dust from her eyes.

Hecate moves to right herself and freezes. Feels like she’s under the suffocation spell once again. Can no longer even hear the ringing in her ears or feel the dirt against her skin.

For sprawled and unmoving in the newly distributed debris is a girl.

A girl with auburn hair in two, long braids.

With a red sash just visible through the thick gray dust.

No.

_No._

On hands and knees Hecate pushes herself up, scrambles forward, doesn't care when she tears her dress and cuts her hand, her knees scrapping as soft flesh tears in her hast to get to -

_Mildred Hubble._

With gentle, trembling hands, Hecate reaches down and slides her hands against thin shoulders, turning the girl until she’s on her back, her face ashy even under the mess of soot that streaks her skin.

_No._

She doesn’t know she’s making sound until Pippa is beside her, tears tracking through the grime on her own cheeks as she grasps Hecate by the shoulders, holds her steady and tries to soothe her, tries to press her down and quiet her as to not give away their location, despite the tears that drop heavily against Hecate’s neck as they cradle Mildred Hubble between them.

_No._

“Hecate - “ Pippa’s gasping and it sounds a far off. “Hecate -” She laughs a little and Hecate can’t imagine why. Cannot ever imagine laughing again. Not when Mildred Hubble -

Is looking up at her with a cheeky grin across her face.

Hecate removes her hands as though singed. Pippa laughs again in what Hecate suddenly realizes is relief and helps Mildred sit, brushing at her face with the cleanest corner of her hem that she can find.

Heart thudding painfully, Hecate can only watch them, throat working and burning once again.

“Sorry, Miss Hardbroom,” Mildred’s mumbling. “Musta gotten the wind knocked out of me.”

Pippa presses Mildred’s head down as another ball of fire sizzles through the air above them. It’s enough to launch Hecate out of her brain freeze.

“Mildred Hubble,” She hisses, voice hoarse and nearly unrecognizable. “Get out of here, you silly girl. Get yourself to safety and stay out of sight.”

Mildred nods frantically, her braids whipping in the hot wind. “Yes, Miss Hardbroom.”

“Be very careful, Mildred.” Pippa cups Mildred’s chin with such gentleness that Hecate’s heart aches and Mildred ducks another nod and begins to crawl away down the rampart to where Esmerelda Hallow crouches, a fine attempt at a Sheltering Spell hovering over her sisters and Felicity, Maud, and Enid who huddle around her.

Hecate doesn’t breathe again until Mildred is safely ensconced and she locks eyes with Pippa who nods swiftly and together they crawl back to the wall, peeking over at the chaos Agatha is inflicting from below.

Again Pippa’s hand finds its way into her own. Their sweat-slicked palms slide against each other and Hecate leans closer.

“Pippa,” she whispers, the weight of what she wants to say heavy as the air around them. “If we don’t make it through this -”

“I know.” Pippa squeezes her hand, eyes bright. “I know.”

Hecate squeezes back, loves Pippa all the more for accepting the risk before them. For facing it head on and not making promises she knows neither of them can guarantee.

Instead Pippa turns and levels her gaze down at Agatha and Hecate takes one last moment to let her heart squeeze up at the sight of Pippa by her side, hand in her own, steady, and powerful, and so very dear to Hecate that Hecate has to turn away least the tears the prick at her eyes join the sweat on her cheeks.

“Ready?” She whispers.

“Ready.”

But there’s a loud thump behind them and Hecate turns in exasperation, just in time to see the tower door close on a flash of Mildred’s sash.

“Millie,” Felicity moans from nearby and Enid bites her lip, eyes darting from Hecate to Ethel who is sitting with her arms crossed, face stoney.

“That girl,” Hecate growls, pushing down her panic. Tries not to remember Mildred’s seemingly lifeless body from moments before.

But before she can think of what action to take, Esmeralda breaks off her Sheltering Spell and rises, eyes blazing as she moves away from her friends and towards the gap in the parapet.

Pippa cries out in alarm - or perhaps it’s her own voice - but Esmeralda doesn't stop. And when Agatha lobs a fiery ball of destructive magic at her, Esmeralda merely catches it between her fingers, holds it like a witch ball, eyes it with serious consideration before her gaze sharpens and fixes on the figure gaping up at her from far below.

Quick as a wink, Esmeralda flings the magic back downwards. It streaks forcefully through the air and lands true; the protective spell around Agatha seems to waver and a sharp shriek fills the air like an unattended kettle. But Esmeralda simply raises a hand and twists her wrist, fingers grasping at the air. The shriek intensifies, growing louder in it’s piercing wail until Enid claps her hands over her ears and Maud covers Sybil’s where she stands staring at her eldest sister in transfixed awe. Ethel looks as Hecate feels she must, horrified and fascinated, and more than a little frightened.

But Esmeralda defects Agatha’s next blast and once again absorbs it, her hair blowing back at the force of the impact but otherwise remaining unruffled.

“There she is,” Enid hollars and Esmeralda raises her hands anew as Hecate jerks her head around to catch sight of that dratted Mildred Hubble sprinting full force towards Agatha’s protective bubble.

“Mildred, no - ! “ Hecate cries at the same time Esmerelda and Enid hollar “Now!”

Esmeralda twists her wrist one last time and the bubble breaks with a final high pitched scream and shatters into nothing and Mildred appears from the smoke still running at full speed, a bucket clutched between her hands.

“Mildred - !“ Pippa calls beside her - but it’s too late - Mildred has hefted the bucket high and flung it’s contents straight into Agatha’s furious face.

Hecate curls her fingers, a spell on their tips, ready to drain her very powers if it means keeping the reckless witch safe, but the spell dies on her lips as Agatha begins to glow green and float above the ground, neon cords of gold snaking around her body as she yells curse after curse at Mildred though none of them land.

Far below them, Mildred whoops and stamps her feet and behind her Maud and Enid begin to cheer, Felicity and Sybil joining in as Esmeralda grins and Ethel crosses her arms looking sour.

“We did it!” Enid crows, hugging the girls around her where they bounce and giggle, distracted from the intense heat that sits just as thickly as ever in their glee at Agatha’s entrapment.

_Entrapment._

Fingers move like lightning to her sleeve, searching, searching. No vial. It’s gone.

In a blink she’s summoned a grinning Mildred to stand before her on the rampart.

“Mildred Hubble.”

Mildred’s face drops but she can’t mask the happy twinkle in her eyes as she sneaks a peek over at her friends.

“It seems you have made off with a very dangerous, very unstable, Class Nine Restricted Potion.”

Mildred gulps but has the indecency to look unashamed.

Hecate looms closer. “How did you come by that vial?”

Mildred shifts uncomfortably and Enid breaks the ranks of the girls behind her and steps forward.

“It was my idea, Miss Hardbroom. Miss Cackle said you were brewing an Entrapment Potion but that we had no way to ensure that it would reach Agatha. Millie is always full of these silly ideas, like that witches melt from water, so we thought that if we could just get close enough, if we added the potion to the water, we could splash her with it.”

Hecate blinks at them, still started after all these years at the inner workings of the brains of twelve-year-olds. Beside her Pippa laughs softly and covers her mouth and Hecate frowns further.

“How came you to have the potion. It was on my _person_.”

Mildred and Enid stammar and Maud steps forward, looking far bolder than her wavering voice reveals her to be.

“It - it was my idea, Miss Hardbroom. We knew you’d have the potion and we watched you. I performed a locator spell and told Millie it was in your sleeve. All we had to do was make you think that she’d been injured so she could - so she could -”

Maud flushes and looks terrified.

“Pinch it?” Pippa supplies helpfully and Maud nods, curls bouncing.

“ _Pinch_ it?” Hecate shoots Pippa a look, fighting both exasperation and amusement at Pippa’s own amused delight, which is really rather distracting, and she glowers more forcefully at the girls to mask the smile that wants to tug at the corners of her mouth. Relief floods through her as her eyes find Agatha, spinning below them, contained and harmless. Ada has the staff surrounding her now and they circled her discussing, no doubt, what to do with her next.

“Esmerelda Hallow.” Hecate changes tactics and levels the young witch with a formidable stare.

“Yes, Miss Hardbroom.” Esmeralda steps down from the parapet and twists her hands together, looking uncertain.

“How did you come to absorb magic from a powerful, wicked witch without so much as a scratch?”

Esmeralda shifts and shoots Ethel a small look. “But it wasn’t her magic, Miss Hardbroom. It was my magic.”

“The Founding Stone.”

“Yes, Miss Hardbroom. I know that magic. It knows me. And I knew it would never harm me.”

Hecate steps forward and circles the lot of them. “Do you have any idea - any idea at all - how dangerous, how reckless -”

The world disappears from around her and she lands hard on the grass below, nearly off balance.

“Ah, Hecate, there you are.” Ada twinkles at her from over where Agatha hands suspended in her glowing golden cords. “I dare say her own magic backfired, I’m afraid. Lucky for us at any rate. Well done with the Entrapment Potion. Most effective.”

Hecate gapes at her, as does Mildred, a hurt look flashing across her face. Enid opens her mouth but Hecate beats her too it.

“It was Mildred Hubble and her cohort, it seems. I do suppose it wouldn’t be another month at Cackle’s least Mildred save the day, imprudent and dangerous as her methods may be. It seems we are once again in her debt.” It pains her to say it but she’ll be damned if Agatha take the credit, or any praise be directed her own way, given her ineffectual presence on a battlefield where she’d mistaken death for mere panic.

“Mildred Hubble?” Ada looks surprised but then smiles down at Mildred. “Well, this does call for a celebration, doesn’t it?”

Mildred grins and Ada tugs at her pink sweater. “If only it weren’t so awfully hot.”

“Heat Spell,” Hecate and Pippa say in unison and Hecate clears her throat uncomfortably.

“Oh - Miss Pentangle. I wasn’t aware you’d joined us this afternoon. Welcome, despite the circumstances.” Ada smiles but then looks concerned. “Shouldn’t the spell break now that Agatha is inhand?”

“Time based spell,” Pippa sighs and Hecate tries to ignore the way Pippa’s in a sleeveless dress and the way sweat clings to her collar bones.

“Most unfortunate,” Ada hums, but then smiles and claps her hands. “I believe this calls for a trip to Lake Meridal - it’s nearby and I dare say it will at least provide some relief from the heat and some excitement for the girls.” Ada smiles around at the students who are timidly emerging from behind their columns and doorways.

“But Ada, the castle -’

“The castle can wait, Hecate. Now is a time for celebrating. Girls - come along now. How does a nice swim sound?”

Ada vanishes Agatha to her office and the girls crowd around and chorus their enthusiasm. Hecate surreptitiously wipes a sleeve across her forehead and Pippa catches her eye and inclines her head, jutting her chin out at Ada before looking back at Hecate knowingly.

Which is how Hecate finds the courage to plead off of chaperoning duties under the guise of straightening up the potions lab - a task she performs in mere moments from the comfort of her own chambers - Pippa smiling at her side.

“I hate lakes,” She mutters, fingers tugging at the buttons of her high collar.

“Is that why you quit the tournament?”

Hecate mock glares at Pippa, whose fingers take over on her buttons. “Hardly.” She huffs, feeling acute relief when Pippa peels the sodden garment from her skin.

Pippa sighs. “It’s hot. How long do you think the Heat Spell will last?”

Hecate shrugs. “Could be hours. Could be days.”

Pippa frowns and suddenly her dress is gone. Hecate feels a creep of a different sort of heat - a heat generated from the sort of spell that only Pippa and Pippa alone can cast on her.

“I know other bodies of water that aren’t lakes that you rather do enjoy,” Pippa murmurs, catching up her hand and tugging her to the bathroom.

At Hecate’s small hiss, she comes up short and turns Hecate’s palm over, frowning that the weeping cut across the palm. Nudging Hecate onto the lip of the bath, Pippa summons a cloth and a small purple potion and turns on the tap, wetting the cloth first with water then the contents of the bottle. Hecate hisses again at the sting and Pippa murmurs something soothing that Hecate can’t quite make out over the sound of the water splashing into the tub behind her.

Pippa sinks to a kneel before her and gently brushes her fingers over the torn and raw flesh of her knees. She brings up the rag and when they are clean looks up at Hecate as her fingers move once again over the wounds healing them. Without breaking their gaze, Pippa’s mouth finds the now smooth skin, lips soft against her and Hecate gasps, fingers coming out to grip Pippa’s shoulders until she remembers that her hand is still aching and pulls it back. Pippa takes it and whispers a spell against the skin there and Hecate feels the pain vanish, replaced by Pippa’s lips instead.

Something about how Pippa kneels before her sparks something deep in her stomach and Hecate gasps at the way her body responds, the air around them only growing hotter.

“I think we’re far too covered in soot for the tub,” Pippa murmurs, rising and shutting off the tab. “Come on.” She tugs Hecate up and suddenly their remaining garments are gone and they’re beneath the icy spray of Hecate’s shower, Pippa’s hot skin pressed against her own from hip to breast. The contrasting sensation makes her keen and she buries her face in Pippa’s shoulder as Pippa’s arms come up to wrap around her. For a while they simply stand beneath the spray, still too hot to move, letting the filth of the battle slide from them and down the drain.

Eventually Pippa shivers a bit and Hecate draws back enough to move her hands over Pippa, rubbing at the more stubborn streaks of dirt and sneaking kisses until Pippa is sighing in her arms, loose limbed and hazy eyed. “Hi,” Pippa breathes, droplets of water clinging to her lashes.

“Hello,” Hecate replies and kisses the small scratch on her shoulder until it disappears. Pippa gasps a little when her tongue moves to trace a clavicle. “See, isn’t this much better than the lake.”

Pippa laughs, “Much - better -” her words catch as Hecate turns her and slides her wet hair aside to kiss along the base of her neck and upwards to her ear.

“Hecate -”

“Mmm.”

Pippa shivers at the vibration of Hecate’s mouth against her and spins in her arms again to lean against her, threading her arms up and over Hecate’s shoulders. She looks at her seriously, fingers playing against the nape of Hecate’s neck, twinning in the shorter hairs there before she leans in and kisses her fiercely. She draws back, equal fire in her eyes. “Don’t ever nearly die on me again.”

Hecate ducks her head but Pippa catches her cheeks, hold her her head to meet her gaze. “I hope that we never have another day like today, but I will be by your side through all of it should dark times come. Hecate,” Pippa tightens her grip, thumbs stroking over the hollows of her cheeks, “I was so scared.”

Hecate sags against her, moves her hands up Pippa’s back and tugs her in until Pippa is tucked under her chin, water sluicing down their entwined bodies. Pippa’s hands are tight on her waist and Hecate can feel her tremble, adrenaline wearing off at last and suddenly Hecate feels light headed from her own relief. Pippa tilts her head back and cups her face again before smoothing her hands down her long, dark hair.

For a few minutes they merely touch each other, softly, tenderly, contact meant to soothe rather than excite. They wash each other and Hecate marvels at how it feels to care for another in this way, to accept Pippa’s gentle hands on her body, to move her own along Pippa’s arms and down her chest, examining each patch of skin until she’s certain that Pippa’s whole and clean.

The water stays perfectly cold - a spell of Pippa’s no doubt - and soon they are both shivering, mouths hot and desperate when they find each other.

“Pippa,” Hecate whispers, hand tightening on Pippa’s hip and Pippa draws back, pupils dilated and breath shallow.

“I know.”

Suddenly the water ceases and the only sound is their breathing. Hecate doesn’t know why that alone intensifies the acute ache within her, but she gasps at how needy it makes her feel, how the tension spools and builds between them as if caught and suspended in the thick, humid air that clouds the room.

Pippa holds her gaze and takes her hand, doesn’t bother with towel, doesn’t bother with modesty, but tugs her through her chambers to the large window seat where slightly cooler air filters in through the open frame, the glass having shattered to the grounds below in the midst of battle.

The seat is broad enough for Pippa to recline, enough so that Hecate needn’t worry about the empty space where glass once was and the drop below, but still she silently casts a protection charm, stuttering over it a bit in her mind at the sight of Pippa naked and laid out for her, open and wanting, and willing.

Water from the shower still beads across her skin, mixing with sweat and something sweeter, far, far sweeter, and Hecate cannot resist dropping to her knees before Pippa to capture the taste. It’s different kind of warmth, a different kind of wetness. She can hardly get enough, her mouth working against Pippa as Pippa’s fingers twine in her still damp hair, as Pippa’s hips arch and buck against her.

The school is empty, the grounds deserted. And Hecate feels a slice of arousal straight through her at the thought that she needn’t hide this act away, needn’t hush Pippa or worry about interruptions from her young charges. It’s exhibition such as she’s never allowed herself and she moves more intently against Pippa, fingers siding up just under her mouth until she’s inside her. She revels in the feel of Pippa’s need as she moves all the more frantically, thrusts herself against Hecate and tips her head back, makes noises that have Hecate nearly tipping over the brink as well as Pippa’s voice shatters the silence, her hands curling more tightly in Hecate’s hair as she comes, hips jerking and thighs trembling.

Pippa goes limp, a sweaty, trembling mess and Hecate presses gentle kisses against the soft skin of her thighs before working her way upwards until she’s balanced above Pippa, leaning on her forearm so she can brush Pippa’s hair from her eyes.

“Hi,” Pippa says again. Her voice shakes and she sounds like she might cry and so Hecate reaches down and shifts Pippa’s legs up until she can curl around her on the window seat.

She drops a kiss to Pippa’s forehead, then her cheek, the her mouth. Pippa kisses back and there are so many things she says in the way she moves her mouth against Hecate’s that when they part Hecate feels as if she might be close to tears as well.

“I love you.” Pippa whispers, thumbs smoothing over Hecate’s cheekbones. “It doesn’t seem as if there are words enough.”

Despite what little relief the open window provides from the heat, Hecate feels goosebumps ghost across her skin. “Show me,” she whispers against Pippa’s lips, nearly pleading. But doesn’t hold it back. Not now. Not any longer. Not when she and Pippa have come so far.

She sits up and helps Pippa to stand on still unsteady legs, holds her hand as she walks backwards to the bed. Stops only when her thighs hit the mattress and she lays herself out, as Pippa had for her.

The tension and the fear from the day leave her in this act of vulnerability. She gives herself over to Pippa who guides her further up the bed, whose hot mouth trails downwards; down across her collarbones and further still, mouth hot against the skin of her sternum. Fireworks burst behind Hecate’s eyes when Pippa finds a nipple, traces it with a finger, a tongue, encircles it with her mouth and sucks, her other hand finding its way between Hecate’s legs, pressing into the slick heat she finds there.

Pippa enters her with two fingers and Hecate bows up off the bed, needy, high sounds falling from her lips but she can’t hold them in, can’t feel shame. Not when Pippa makes a sound like _that_ in response and adds a third, not when everything is hot and pulsing and she can’t tell what is the air and what is her pleasure. The only thing she’s certain of is Pippa, Pippa inside of her, Pippa’s voice now in her ear, her whispers of how good it makes her feel to see Hecate like this, to have her like this.

There’s a sudden rushing that drown out Pippa’s voice, or maybe it’s her own cry, louder than she should allow herself to be, but Pippa’s set off fireworks through her body, through her mind, and she doesn’t hold back, comes apart around Pippa’s fingers, throws her head back and shatters with a sob of relief, body writhing on the sheets until it’s over and she lays exhausted. Pippa gently extracts her hand and Hecate gasps at the loss, misses her immediately until Pippa is pressed against her, sweat slicked skin to sweat slicked skin.

“It’s so hot.” It’s the only thing she can think to say, her nerves still overwhelmed, the heat of the air and Pippa’s weight nearly unbearable, but she’s loathed to let the latter go.

“Yes, that was.”

Hecate cracks open an eye at the naughty edge to Pippa’s voice and suddenly they’re moving against each other again, this time less frantically. Languidly they rock against one another, eyes locked and full of tenderness and trust as their pleasure slowly builds, then breaks, and the fall into each other.

Pippa rolls to lie next to her, through her hand moves to clasps around Hecate’s wrist, maintaining contact.

“Hot.” Pippa grouses and Hecate groans in agreement but can’t stop her hand from creeping back between Pippa’s legs.

“Not fair,” Pippa whimpers and Hecate laughs, then frowns at how sticky and hot her long hair feels against her back. She mouths a spell against Pippa’s ribs and feels it twirl into bun atop her head, laughs again when Pippa’s fingers move down to her shoulders instead as to not dislodge it.

“Nothing about today has been fair,” Hecate breathes against Pippa’s neck, fingers working more intently as Pippa’s breath becomes labored once more.

“I can think of four things,” Pippa pants. She shudders suddenly, and cries out, and falls back onto the bed. “Five.”

Her hands move to Hecate’s waist, pulling her up until Hecate’s laying back against the pillows. Pippa sits between her legs, a hand skating up her thigh as she smiles at her. “Six?”

“It appears that _would_ only be fair.”

Pippa kisses her. “Exactly.”

When Hecate comes back into her body after white, swirling, eddies of pleasure, the sky is very dark and it’s pouring rain. Cool air streams in through the window, washing over them and Pippa grins.

“The spell wore off?” Her voice is raw and Pippa looks all too satisfied.

“I think you broke it.”

“Broke it?”

Pippa looks so smug that if Hecate could find a way to regain faculty of her limbs she’d push her down and kiss her silly. Or more. “Let’s just say that when you came, so did the storm. Out of nowhere.”

Hecate flushes. Notes how good the cool air feels against her face. Flushes some more.

Pippa leans in and nips at her bottom lip. “And it was rather remarkable timing with the thunder.”

Hecate gasps and tightens her fingers against Pippa’s scalp at the hazy recollection of a large cracking sound that she thought had been solely in her head.

Kissing her cheek, Pippa settles down beside her and Hecate threads their fingers together.

“We’re going to have to get up eventually and start to put the rest of the castle to rights.” Her chin digs into Hecate’s shoulder as she eyes her and Hecate’s heart trips over itself at just how much she loves everything about the woman beside her.

“We’re going to have some rain drenched, hungry, overly excited girls returning any moment. I do suppose it would be best if we did get the castle back into some semblance of order before they return.”  
  
They lay quietly for a moment until Pippa sighs and sits, throwing her legs over the edge of the bed and conjuring fresh clothes into one hand while she rakes her fingers through her tangled hair with the other. Hecate can’t help but stare the smooth skin of her back, at the many freckles that dot her shoulders. She wants to kiss each and every one.

“Divide and conquer, I imagine? I’ll take window repair, you take tower rebuilding.” Pippa moves to pull her dress on but Hecate pushes herself up and catches her wrist. Her fingers slide down until they’re covering Pippa’s.

“No.”

“No?”

Hecate swallows, feeling very serious but too in love to stop the small smile that tugs at the corners of her lips.

“Together?”

Pippa’s smile could blot out the storm with its brilliance. She turns her palm over to entwine their fingers before leaning back in for a kiss.

“Together."


End file.
